Twilight Rider
by Bluefire Eternal
Summary: Twilight PrincessxEragon Crossover. Incomplete. See Profile for redone, imrpoved, and expanded version.
1. Prelude: The Storm

**I'm _ba-ack_ and this time I brought an _Inheritance Cycle/Twilight Princess crossover! _Now before I continue let me get one thing straight, Link does NOT exist in this story. Al special weapons and powers that belonged to Link hereby go to this story's Chosen Hero, Eragon. Secondly, the only Zelda game I ever played was _Twilight Princess _(with maybe a microscopic bit of OoT) so I apologise for any mistakes before-hand. **

**Pairings: Possible EragonxSaphira, EragonxMidna or EragonxZelda (not too sure at this point) with m****aybe some MurtaghxNasuada or RoranxKatrina if I feel like it.**

High above the clouds, a sapphire dragon flew with the grace and majesty of any of her kind. Upon her back was a young man with brown hair and blue eyes, long since accustomed to the excitement and novelty of dragon-flight.

To Eragon Shadeslayer, it had seemed just like the other day when he and his cousin, Roran, had stormed Helgrind to rescue Katrina. They had found the Ra'zac's lair to be empty, save for the imprisoned woman kept somewhere in the center of the mountain. Saphira had carried the three humans back to the Varden's camp shortly after, as Katrina was in dire need of medical attention and Eragon could not wait for the Ra'zac to return.

Assured that Katrina was in a healer's care, Eragon and Saphira had left Roran at the camp with his fiance so that dragon and Rider could continue on to Tronjheim. There they were to attend the coronation of the new Dwarf King, Orik, and pay their final respects to the previous ruler before he was laid to rest. Saphira knew flew somewhere along the southeastern part of Alagaesia, steadily travelling from the Burning Plains up into the Beor Mountains.

It had been quite early in the morning when Eragon and Saphira had departed from the Varden's camp. Now it was late in the afternoon and the sky which had been so friendly when they had set out was beginning to be filled with ominous dark clouds that promised a whopper of a storm. Saphira was beginning to grow weary from the long flight and was becoming nervous at the prospect of being trapped in a thunderstorm.

The blue dragon was currently muttering to herself, flying lower all the while as the clouds gathered overhead to steadily make a single black sheet where blue skies had been. Eragon knew that they would not make it to Farthern Dur before the storm broke, and had allowed Saphira to scan the area to find a suitable shelter to wait out the bad weather.

"Any luck, Saphira?" he asked. The little innocent breeze that had started around mid-day was beginning to grow in strength, its chilling touch no longer so pleasant to Eragon.

Saphira was silent for a moment as she circled ever closer to the rocky sides of the mountains as she searched for shelter. _No, _she replied. _Despite the Beor Mountains being twice the size of the Spine, their caves are twice as small. I could not find a cave big enough for you, let alone for the both of us._

Eragon glanced up at the darkening sky. "You'll find one in time, right?"

The dragon was silent for a moment, circling toward an opening in a mountainside to investigate further. Seeing it was tinier than what it had originally appeared to be, she turned away and flew higher. _I do not know, little one, _she replied.

"Maybe if we-" A sudden flash of red light interrupted what Eragon was about to say. Eragon barely had time to bark a command that caused a shield to cover him and Saphira, deflecting the magic just in time. The Rider whipped his head around, reflexively unsheathing the sword he had borrowed from the armoury while doing so.

A dragon slightly smaller than Saphira was flying toward them with impossible speed, brilliant ruby-colored scales muted by the dark clouds that blotted out the sun. Astride the red dragon, Thorn, was Murtagh, one hand keeping a firm hold on the saddle while the other was held open, ready to cast another spell.

Saphira quickly turned and zoomed up higher into the sky, making sure she kept clear of the mountain-tops. Eragon felt her tense beneath him, her instinct to fight this opponent going against her common sense that told her to flee. _They're back earlier than we expected, _she said_, and we have no new tricks against them. Should we try to fight them again?_

Eragon shook his head. _Murtagh and Thorn are stronger than us, _he admitted. _The only reason we escaped at the Burning Plains was because Murtagh found a loophole in his oaths. Galbatorix must have made him swear additional promises to not show such mercy. If we fight, we shall both be captured and dragged to Urubaen in chains._

The blue dragon growled, reluctant to forsake a chance of revenge. But she looked up at the stormy sky and nodded her head. _Thorn seems to be unaware of the storm, _she observed. _We may have an advantage over them if we flee now._

_Then go!_

Saphira surged forward, breathing a torrent of fire as she charged at Thorn. Under the impression that he was being attacked, the red dragon swerved to the side to avoid being rammed. But instead of flying up to meet him in battle, the blue dragon took her chance and rushed past Thorn, beating her wings as fast as they could go. Eragon clung to Saphira, the dragon moving too fast for him to cast spells over his shoulder to deter Murtagh and Thorn even further.

Thorn bellowed in rage, enraged that his quarry had fooled him and rocketed off in hot pursuit. His Rider was shouting spells, throwing red magic at Saphira that rebounded off the wards Eragon had hastily conjured. But soon the spells ceased as Thorn grew too fast for Murtagh, and Eragon's brother was forced too cling to his dragon as well.

Saphira's training with Glaedr had given her endurance, but she was exhausted from the long flight and flying at this speed was not wise. She was breathing heavily, struggling for oxygen as her impossible speed began to falter.

Thorn, however, was showing no sign of fatigue. He was clearly rested and seeing Saphira's burst of energy beginning to waver only goaded him on. The red dragon covered the distance with every new wing beat and in no time he would catch Saphira.

That is, if the weather didn't catch them first. The moment Thorn was upon Saphira the storm broke and unleashed its burden on the dragons and their Riders.

Lightning flashed, dangerously close to the two dragons. Thorn wheeled out of the way as another bolt of lightning struck where he had been moments before. Saphira dove downward, heading into a dark cloud and away from the other dragon. The storm had distracted Murtagh from his mission, too focused on trying to navigate through the danger to notice his brother had escaped.

Eragon grinned at Saphira's excellent escape, but the joy was soon sapped out of him as he and Saphira were left alone to brave the strengthening storm.

Saphira was exhausted from the chase and it was taking all of her effort to stay aloft in the powerful winds. Eragon could tell she was trying to fly closer to the ground and look for a place to land, but the winds blew upward, forcing her higher whenever she tried to go down.

"Come on, Saphira!" Eragon cried. "You can do this!" His words of encouragement were lost as a mighty clap of thunder added to the chaos of the storm. Eragon winced at the powerful sound that caused his bones to shake. Saphira dodged another bolt of lightning, banking sharply to the right as she tried to find a way out of the winds that batted her to and fro like a cat playing with a mouse.

Eragon abonded the use of his voice; it would do nothing in this noisy storm. Instead he urged Saphira on mentally, transferring some of his own energy into her. _Come on, Saphira, you can do this! All you have to do is beat this wind and find a place to land, then it'll all be over._

The blue dragon was too tired to reply, but Eragon could feel her increase her already monumental effort to escape the storm. She began to flap frantically, flying downward with her eyes narrowed against the wind. Eragon clutched the saddle for dear life, trying not to get blown off. For the longest time all he could do was squint against the wind, feeling Saphira struggle against him as she flew in place. But finally her fight against the wind seemed to be working as she gradually began to fly lower.

_You're doing it Saphira. Almost there. _The battle against the storm was almost won; Eragon swore he could see the peaks of the Beors below him. Saphira was panting from the enormous effort, struggling for every breath, but her progress down to the mountains was steady.

The mountains were close now, their jagged peaks outlined against the lightning. So close.....

A sudden burst of bright light blinded Eragon. He heard Saphira bellow in agony, getting tossed upward and back into the storm. He opened his mouth to use his magic, but then the bright light hit him. He could feel a sharp and intense pain in his arm, the shock of it causing him to fall of Saphira.

The pain was so strong and so agonising that Eragon felt that he would die from it. Darkness was beginning to close in around him, a cold and unfeeling abyss that was beginning to numb the pain. Eragon allowed himself to drift off into unconsciousness, slowly becoming unaware of the world around him.

He could hear Saphira's roars of pain.....her calling his name.....and he was falling.....falling....

**I know it's a bit short, but it's only the prologue. The next chapter will be longer, I promise.**

**Next up: Rusl finds a rather large surprise at in the Faron Woods and Ordon Village recieves its strangest visitors ever.**


	2. The Man Who Fell From the Sky

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Eragon _or _Twilight Princess._**

To say that Rusl's luck that night was bad was like calling the tyrannic rule of Gannondorf "mildly unpleasant." First Rusl had been caught in one of the worst storms he had ever encountered; one that seemed to come out of nowhere. And just to make things better, he had been practicing his swordplay down near Faron Spring when the storm had rolled in. Currently the man was hurrying down the path that led back to Ordon Village, pursued by stinging rain and a strong wind.

Rusl had been running past Ordon Spring he suddenly stopped, frowning slightly. He could have sworn he had just heard something heavy land into the spring with a loud splash. Rusl began to continue on his way, the logical part of him dismissing the sound as nothing but a branch that had been blown into the water by the wind. The villager would have walked right on by Ordon Spring without a second glance, forgetting the experience entirely, if it were not for the low groan that came from the object in the spring.

Rusl paused, the hair on the back of his neck going up with the groan.

_What in the names of the Goddesses? _he thought. _Surely that can't be a.... _He trailed off, unable to believe his wild theory.

Another groan came from the shapeless lump in Ordon Spring, answering Rusl's question. The man quickly altered his direction and headed for the spring. Upon closer inspection Rusl's earlier predictions proved true; the object was indeed a person. A person in urgent need of medical attention by the look of it.

Despite the the poor condition of the mysterious stranger, Rusl did not move. Something inside of him was wary of this man; _afraid, _even. The stranger had shown up out of nowhere, appearing as if he had fallen from the sky. Then there was the fact, that if even if this person had not fallen from the sky, how was he still alive? Rusl was positive that this man must have taken a terrible fall, one that would have killed an ordinary human.

**If **this thing was human......

The man stirred slightly, red blood from his wounds beginning to drip into the water and turn it scarlet. Rusl immediately abandoned his caution and proceeded toward the man. Human or not, this stranger still needed help.

In the strange glowing light of the spring, Rusl could make out this stranger better than he could have at a distance. He was not a day over eighteen, if he even was that old, and he wore clothes that only the wealthy could afford. Rusl frowned, noticing the man's strange pointed ears.

_A Hylian? _It would fit, Rusl supposed. This man, hardly more than a boy, could be a son of one of the rich Hylian families that lived in Castle Town. But that wouldn't explain why how this strange fell from the sky.

Deciding it was best to ponder at a more convenient time, Rusl stopped wondering around the young man's origins and focused on his injuries. One arm appeared badly burnt, as if it had been struck by lightning, and it also appeared broken from the fall. There were also a large variety of cuts and bruises, ranging from small scratches to several large marks, but nothing that seemed potentially lethal.

Rusl glanced up at the sky, suddenly aware that the rain and wind were becoming stronger than ever and thunder was beginning to erupt in the distance. It was best to get the(Hylian?) into a warm bed and out of those wet clothes as soon as possible.

He bent down, preparing to scoop the young man (who didn't appear to be that heavy) into his arms when he felt something glaring daggers into his back. Rusl felt his stomach churn uneasily, afraid about what he would see once he turned around.

The man slowly turned around, one hand reflexively reaching for the sword strapped his belt as he did so. A hulking shape that took up the entire spring with cold eyes the color of ice stared back.

Rusl backed away, unsheathing his blade and standing protectively between the stranger and this monstrous beast as he did so. The creature gave a low rumbling growl, moving its head dangerously close to where Rusl stood. It opened its mouth, revealing sharp white fangs that glowed in the soft light of Ordon Spring.

Rusl shivered as he felt something alien brush against his mind, probing his thoughts. He could feel the creature shifting through his memories and through the shared mental link he could feel some of (her?) emotions.

Anger. Extreme pain. Caution. And, most surprising of all, a maternal urge to protect the strange man that lay unconscious and wounded in the spring.

A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the entire area with a bright light. In the span of a few seconds the creature became fully visible. It was a sapphire blue lizard-like creature, and Rusl jumped to the conclusion that he was looking at a dragon. One of the dragon's wings was a charred-looking blackish color and it drooped uselessly. On her back was a leather saddle.

_Well, _Rusl thought with a humourless smile, _that certainly explains a few things. _

He eyed the dragon with a new light, sheathing his sword as he did so. The dragon stopped growling and looked back at the human with eerily intelligent blue eyes. Rusl felt the creature's mind touch his again. This time the dragon's aggression had subsided; mostly she was feeling almost overwhelming pain and concern for the stranger.

"It's okay, dragon," Rusl said quietly. "I am going to take your master to safety and make sure he has a healer look at his wounds." He motioned to her burnt wing. "And if you want me to, I'll get some one to tend to your wing as well."

The dragon remained motionless, examining his mind for any trace of a lie. Finally she seemed satisfied and gave her consent by nodding her massive head once in silent approval.

Rusl bent down again, and giving the dragon one last cautious look, scooped the young man into his arms. He was heavier than he had first appeared, but Rusl could bear the weight for the short walk back to Ordon Village. Making sure he had a firm hold on the stranger, Rusl set off to the village the dragon following close behind.

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The day after the storm was a hectic one for all the residents of Ordon Village. The young man that Rusl had brought in had been in urgent need of medical care, but the closest trained doctor was all the way in Castle Town. Fortunately all the adults combined had enough knowledge to treat the strangers burns and broken bones. Though he remained unconscious, they were confident he would awaken soon.

Ilia and the children also had their share of work cut out for them. Since they were mainly responsible for the resident horse, Epona, Mayor Bo figured they had enough experience with riding animals to take care of the dragon and tend to her burnt wing.

Their charge was currently in Ordon Spring, getting her blue scales scrubbed clean until they glittered brilliantly in the sunlight. The dragon had not objected to the poking and prying hands of the children; she seemed rather content to have all the attention and encouraged them to scratch places she could not reach by nudging them gently with her snout.

The trip to the spring was more than just a bath, however. Ilia had guessed the healing properties of Ordon Spring would help the dragon's wing heal faster and more efficently than it would have on its own. Even after only a couple of hours, the wing didn't appear as badly burnt as before and now the dragon had the strength to flutter it weakly.

Malo and Talo were cleaning the dragon's massive tail, taking great effort to make sure every little particle of dirt had been removed. The oldest of the two brothers had been weary of the dragon since it had arrived last night and had steadily became more unnerved as the day wore on and Talo was now eying the dragon every few seconds.

"Hey," he said quietly. "Does anyone know what this dragon will eat when it gets hungry?"

Colin got the scared tone in the boy's voice. "You mean _she_," he corrected. "And the dragon is tame, right Ilia?"

Ilia glanced down at the younger children, who had followed Talo's lead and were now slowly inching away from the dragon. The young woman caught the dragon's eye and smiled at the bored look she saw in her eye. "The dragon had a saddle on her, didn't she? If that man can ride her without getting his head bitten off then I'm pretty sure we're safe."

"But what about the burn marks on the man's arm?" Malo whispered in a low voice. "What if the dragon got hungry last night and tried to burn her rider into a nice crispy snack?"

The dragon snorted indignantly, almost as if she had understood what they were talking about and had taken serious offence. Ilia thought she heard a feminine voice say, _You have to be kidding me._

Ilia shook her head. "All of you heard Rusl's theory," she answered patiently. "He thinks that the dragon was caught in the storm and lightning hit both her and the young man, causing her to accidentally drop him from the shock of it. That would explain the burn marks and the man's broken bones."

The children accepted Ilia's answer and got back to work without complaint, although Talo continued to eye the dragon every once and a while. Ilia got back to work to gently pouring water over the dragon's burnt wing and let her mind wander.

_Where does such a strange man who rides a dragon come from?_ she wondered._Father, Rusl and Jaggle think he's a Hylian from Castle Town that happened to have enough money to afford such a strange and exotic pet such as a dragon, but he doesn't look like a Hylian to me._

To Ilia, the strange young man happened to look like a human, albeit a human with strange pointed ears. And Ilia had a hunch that by the man's calloused hands he wasn't some pampered little rich Hylian that had been unfortunate to get caught in the worst storm Hyrule had seen in over ten years.

_Maybe he's from another land, _she thought. _One that hasn't been seen by Hylians before, and all people from that land are humans with pointed ears. _Even inside her head, the idea sounded stupid.

Oh well, Ilia always supposed she could ask the young stranger about where he and his dragon came from later when he woke up. Until then she would enjoy the rare opportunity of being able to handle a creature that had once thought to have been nothing more than a myth.

A low rumbling sound caused the children to yell in surprise and jump backwards, expecting the noise to be the growls of a hungry dragon who had just found her lunch. But the dragon didn't move; she just lie there watching the terrified youths with a bemused expression.

The children reluctantly decided to continue on with their cleaning, although even Ilia kept a cautious eye on the dragon. The young girl still thought the dragon was harmless to humans, but all the same, the dragon could not hunt for her food with that broken wing. Ilia thought she should ask Fado to shut the goats into the barn for the remainder of the dragon's stay and keep a close eye on Epona until then.

Almost as if the dragon had heard Ilia's thoughts, she began to make a low rasping sound that sounded suspicously like laughter. Ilia shuddered as an image of a roasted horse upon a huge plate drifted into her mind and for a second she felt the dragon's ravenous hunger.

_Correction, _Ilia thought, _make sure to keep Epona by your side at all times._

The blue dragon snorted in surprise, her blue eyes widening. Ilia thought she heard the feminine voice again, although this time it sounded offended and dismayed. _It was just a joke!_

**Next chapter: Eragon wakes up in Ordon Village and Arya begins to worry over our dear Rider's mysterious absence.**


	3. Ordon Village?

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Zelda: Twilight Princess _or _the Inheritance Cycle._**

_Eragon was heading down a dirt path, following it through a peaceful green meadow that reminded him of the area around Leona Lake. In the distant a magnificent white castle towered above the surrounding area to touch the azure sky above. He had never seen this castle before, or the field and the dusty road that wound through it, but it all seemed vaguely familiar._

_Eragon suddenly stopped. A woman was walking toward him, her arms extended in a gesture of welcome. She was radiant, even surpassing Arya with her beauty. The woman had pale skin with blueish skin and wore fine black garments, complete with a headdress, fit for a queen. Despite the royal air about her, the woman's smile was impish and her yellowish eyes had a mischievous gleam._

_The Dragon Rider grinned back at the woman. Though her face was unfamiliar, it felt as though he wore meeting a very old and dear friend after a long time apart. He began to walk again, this time to greet the mysterious stranger._

_Before he could reach her, the sky suddenly grew dark. The woman's care-free smile disappeared, her eyes wide and expression fearful as she stared at something behind Eragon. He reached for his sword, intent on whirling around and striking down whatever was scaring her. As he touched the hilt, his attention focused on a new threat._

_A dark cloud had began to gather around the white castle. It continued to grow, smothering the building of sunlight until it was no longer visible. Suddenly the cloud surged away from the shrouded castle and rushed toward Eragon and the young woman._

_The young woman did not see the cloud that was swiftly approaching. She was still transfixed on what stood behind Eragon. The Dragon Rider shouted a warning, telling the young woman to run away._

_The dark cloud finally reached the woman and she was engulfed in blackness. Eragon screamed in horror, trying to run to her aid before it was too late. At that moment the cloud hit him and he began to feel a horrible fiery agony all over as he began to lose consciousness._

_He spun around, his legs feeling almost too heavy to move, determined to catch a glimpse of what had frightened the woman. _

_Eragon caught the slightest glimpse of an inhuman face; distorted and mask-like in appearance, before he could no longer see. Then the cloud obscured his vision entirely, its ravaging pain tearing mercilessly at his unprotected body. He heard the echo of cruel laughter for a moment more than nothing...._

"No!" Eragon's eyes shot open as he bolted up from his resting position. Looking around wildly, he found himself in unfamiliar, but cozy, surroundings. He was in a small hut, lying on a comfortable cot. A fire was crackling merrily in the far corner.

He looked around for a couple of seconds, wondering why he was in this strange room. Then he remembered the storm and the terrible accident that had happened because of it.

Eragon concluded that he must have been struck by lighting, the force of which knocked him unconsciousness and sent him flying off Saphira. Then someone, or something, had been kind enough to happen upon him and carried him back to their house for medical treatment.

But where exactly was here? This home looked nothing like any of the dwarfish houses he'd seen, that meant the storm hadn't dropped him anywhere near the Beor Mountains. He was also positive that this home didn't belong to any of the Varden, either.

_Saphira? _he asked cautiously, reaching out with his mind to search for his dragon. He recalled the roar of pain from the previous night and feared for the worst. His mind touched several strange minds, though all were untrained and didn't detect intrusion. Finally, he found who he was looking for.

Saphira's mind was calm and silent, and he picked nothing up from her but a brief glimpse of a forest from overhead. Eragon smiled. The blue dragon was sleeping soundly, dreaming of flying or perhaps hunting a deer.

_Saphira? _he quietly called again. The dragon slumbered on, too caught up in her dreams to hear her Rider's voice.

Eragon pulled away, knowing he had at least one answer. Wherever they were, Saphira trusted these people enough to leave her precious Rider in their hands without her constantly watching over him and was calm enough to sleep. That meant if Saphira could trust them, he could too.

The door to the hut suddenly opened and Eragon reflexively tensed, preparing for a fight if need be. A heavily pregnant woman with short blond hair entered the house, taking great care to close the door behind her. The woman glanced over in Eragon's direction and a brief look of surprise crossed her face at seeing her patient was awake.

"Glad to see you're finally up," she said. She gave Eragon a warm smile, looking down at him with kind blue eyes. Eragon returned the smile and relaxed. "My husband expected for you to be unconscious for several days. But you came around pretty quick considering the circumstances."

Eragon blinked. "Circumstances?"

"Yes. Rusl, my husband, said you fell from the sky and landed right in Ordon Spring. He claims that if you landed anywhere other than the spring, you'd wouldn't be here right now."

Eragon glanced over at his injured arm. It was heavily bandaged with strips of clean cloth and reeked of numerous herbs and charred flesh. For the first time since he had regained consciousness he noticed a faint throb of pain coming from the arm, but it paled in comparison to the cursed scar that Durza had left him.

"Not to be rude or anything, but where exactly am I?" he asked as he shifted his blue gaze from his bandaged arm to the pregnant woman.

The woman chucked. "Sorry, I sort of forget the basic introductions." She extended a hand and shook Eragon's uninjured one. "I'm Uli, and you're in Ordon Village."

"Ordon Village?"

Uli nodded and walked over to the fire and removed a pot that was boiling over the flames from it. As she poured some of the pot's contents into a bowl she said, "Yes, Ordon Village. You know, the small village stuck right in the middle of Faron Woods?" Uli received a blank stare in response. "I guess Hylian nobles such as yourself don't know about tiny, insignificant settlements like Ordon Village."

"Hylian nobles?" Eragon repeated.

Ordon Village? He couldn't recall any place with that name anywhere in Alagaesia. And what was a "Hylian?" Surely Eragon was still in Alagaesia? The storm couldn't have been so powerful that it had blown him and Saphira all the way out of their homeland...or could it have been?

Uli sighed. "You're not from Hyrule, are you?"

Eragon shook his head, deciding it was safe to not make up an alias if people in this strange land didn't even know who he was. "My name is Eragon," he replied. "I hail from Alagaesia."

"But you're still a Hylian," the woman protested, gesturing at his pointed ears. "The only people I know who have pointed ears like that are the Hylians that come from either Castle Town or Karkariko Village."

"I'm human, like you," Eragon explained. "I just...look a little different from the rest of you."

Uli nodded, though she did not look entirely convinced. "It would explain your dragon," she mused. "We certainly don't have any animals like that in Hyrule."

Eragon's ears pricked at the mention of the word "dragon." "My dragon?" he echoed anxiously. "Where is Saphira? Is she all right? Was she-"

"Your dragon is fine," she interrupted, sensing the bombard of questions that were about to ensue. "Her left wing was also hit by the lightning, but other than that she is in perfect health. Ilia and the other children have been kind enough to tend to her and are down by Ordon Spring right now. The spring has magical properties, you know. It is watched over by the Light Spirit, Ordona. I'm sure your dragon's wing heal in no time."

_Magical properties? Light Spirit? _The only magic that Eragon trusted right now was his own, and he certainly wasn't going to put Saphira's health in the hands of some nonexistent spirit. "Where is the spring?" he asked, making a move to get up.

"Oh, right outside of the village. Not like you'll be going anywhere today." Uli pressed Eragon back into the cot with a firm shove, handing him the wooden bowl and a spoon.

"But-"

"No complaints," Uli said in a firm tone that invited no argument. "You've been unconscious for nearly a day and your body needs to recuperate from that lightning strike. The entire village worked very hard to patch you up after that fall and I won't let you over-exert yourself and ruin all the work we managed to do."

Eragon sighed and nodded. He had met Uli for barely five minutes and already she came as a cross between Elain and Angela. He turned his attention to the soup, eyeing a chunk of....something that looked suspiciously like meat. "What exactly is in this soup?"

"Oh the usual. A bit of pumpkin, a dash of ginger, a fair helping of cheese."

"Cheese?"

"Yes." Uli fixed Eragon a wicked smile. "Ordon Village is quite famous for its goat-cheese."

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A week had passed since Eragon had departed the Varden's camp at the Burning Plains for Orik's coronation and Arya was beginning to worry. According to the dwarfs, the Rider and dragon had still not arrived.

_Their mysterious absence means nothing,_Arya tried to tell herself. _Eragon might have made an important detour or perhaps he and Saphira are taking their time and are searching the nearby mountains for any trace of surviving dragons. Yes, that's it! Saphira wanted to look for any living members of her kind and they are late because of this._

Despite her terrible attempts at trying to remain optimistic, Arya began to feel increasingly worried that Eragon and Saphira were late not of their own free will. Only something drastically important would cause Eragon to miss one of his best friend's coronation, and there were no whispers of anything major coming up, aside from the Dwarf King's ceremony.

To make matters worse, the dwarfs that lived in the southern vincity of the Beor Mountains, the area where Saphira was supposed to be in, had reported the worst storm in over fifty years had happened barely three days ago. What if Saphira had been caught in the storm and had been injured beyond capability of flight? What if she and Eragon were wandering in an isolated part of the wilderness, unable to contact either the Varden or the dwarves for help?

_What if Saphira had perished in the storm and Eragon died along with her? _Arya frowned, shaking the preposterous idea out of her head. _It would take more than a simple thunderstorm to kill the infamous Eragon Shadeslayer. But, at least according to the dwarfs, that storm was the worst in over half a century...._

The elf once again chastised her unrealistic worry. It had barely been a week, and there could be any number of possibilities of why Saphira had still not arrived at Tronjheim.

Besides, even if she wanted to, Arya couldn't confirm or disprove her fears. Eragon and Saphira were incapable of being scryed. She herself had examined the small charm that shielded the young Dragon Rider from being spied upon by any prying eyes, and found no suggestion that the spell that gave the silver hammer its protective properties was weakening.

Despite all her reasoning, Arya couldn't but feel a small prickle of unease. Sighing, the elf shoved the troublesome fears to the back of her head. Composed once again, Arya left the quiet sanctity of her tent to return to her chaotic life.

**Meh, can't say I'm fully satisfied with this chapter. It was a bit of a filler; the action won't pick up until two chapters from now. The dream I sort of stuck in there. Eragon's whole vision he has right before major events (like the battle at the Burning Plains and leaving Alagaesia) seemed to fit in well with the hell he's about to receive. And I'm sure any TP fan can guess who that "mysterious woman" was.**

**Next chapter: Eragon recovers from the lightning strike, meets a couple of interesting locals and learns a bit of history on the Goddesses. Also, Murtagh and Thorn finally make it back at Uru'baen to report their failure to King Galbatorix....**


	4. Bedtime Stories

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Zelda: Twilight Princess _or the _Inheritance Cycle. _All original content belongs to me.**

A week had passed since the unexpected arrival of the stranger and his dragon, who Ilia now knew as Eragon and Saphira. The days had passed by without major chage: Eragon remained confined to Rusl's house so that he could heal properly and life went on as usual (save for the strange rumours floating around about how the stranger and his pet arrived in Hyrule in the first place.)

"Come on," Ilia coaxed. "Let me see your wing, Saphira."

The dragon extended her wing without protest and Ilia was once again amazed by Saphira's intelligence. She was unusually smart for an animal and quite tame, even surpassing the highly trained Epona in mental capacity. Bending over, Ilia examined the wing.

The girl noted with approval that the wing was doing much better than it should have been at this stage. Ordon Spring's mystical properties had sped up the natural healing process and now Saphira's wing barely showed signs that if had been damaged in the first place. The dragon had now recovered enough so that she could now fly short distances and hunt for her own food (much to Fado's and Ilia's relief.)

"Hey, Ilia," Beth said. "We've been cleaning Saphira for the past week. Her are blinding blind me with their brightness! Can we _please_ take a break from doing this stupid chore and do something a little bit more fun?"

Saphira snorted, training one disgusted blue eye on Beth. _Well, little one, aren't you whiny. From where I come from, the elves considered even _touching_a dragon a great honor. Much less having the privilege to clean their scales. I can see that you do not have the same frame of mind._

Ilia smiled slightly and shook her head. "Beth, you heard my father's order. 'You kids are to take care of that dragon to the best of your abilities 'til she and her master are ready to ride leave.' I don't think breaking the law this early in life is a great start for you."

"It's wasn't exactly an order," Malo protested. "Mayor Bo only _asked_us to take care of Saphira until she was better. Look, she's almost all better! Can't you handle Saphira by yourself for a little while."

Ilia sighed playfully and pretending to consider it. "Hmm," she said doubtfully. "I don't know. What if Saphira suddenly gets hungry and tries to eat Epona while you're gone? I don't think I'll be able to hold her back by myself for very long."

As if she understood and had caught on to the joke, Saphira let out a menacing growl. The children only stared tiredly back, too used to the dragon's tricks to be frightened anymore.

"Come on, Ilia!" Talo, Malo, and Beth all gazed up at the girl with the best 'cute and innocent look' they each could muster. "Please?"

Grinning, Ilia nodded.

With whoops of joy, the three children dropped their rages and sponges into the water. With cries of "Thank you, Ilia" the youths took off running back to Ordon Village, no doubt to retrieve their wooden weapons for yet another play-fight. Colin lingered for a moment longer, casting a doubtful glance back at Saphira as if asking for permission. The dragon dipped her head and immediately he too abandoned his old cleaning cloth and took off running after his friends.

Alone at last, Ilia tucked her own sponge into her belt and reached down to retrieve the discarded objects. Personally, she was glad the children were gone. All of their arguing and complaining had been starting to irritate her. Now she was left alone with only the dragon for company, with only the peaceful sound of rushing water in her ears.

Ilia went back to rubbing Saphira's scales with a cloth, even though there was no more grime to wipe off. She liked coming alone to Ordon Spring with only Epona. Having all the noisy children with her all the time spoiled the magical feeling of the spring.

"Well," she joked to Saphira. "Alone at last."

"Except for me," replied an unfamiliar voice.

Ilia whirled around, coming face to face with a handsome stranger. He had light brown hair (she supposed it could be called dirty blond) and the same facial structure and pointed ears she had come to familiarize with Hylians. He was dressed in clothes she recognized as Rusl's too big for his lithe form.

Ilia panicked for a moment and felt the need to shout for help, but the calm attitude of Saphira and the vaguely familiar features of the stranger eased her fears. This must be Eragon. Yep, she could see that one of his arms was still bandaged.

"Except for you," she amended. She extended a friendly hand which he took. "Hi. I'm Ilia."

"Eragon," he replied. "You must be the girl that was in charge of taking care of Saphira." He let go of her hand, instead focusing on the massive sapphire-scaled dragon. Saphira rumbled in greeting, thrusting her snout out to muzzle Eragon affectionately. The two remained still for a moment, entirely absorbed in the other as if they were sharing a private conversation.

Ilia nodded, feeling as if she shouldn't be interruptting the intimate moment. "She was really quite an easy charge. Saphira was extremely well-behaved and the younger children loved her. Her wing was badly burned from the lightning, but it's pretty much better by now.

Eragon furrowed his brow. "By now?" he repeated. "It's barely been a week."

Saphira extended her wing as if on cue and allowed her master to inspect it. Eragon ran expert hands over the wing membranes, feeling for anything abnormal. His fingers paused at the scorched flesh, gently touching it. The dragon barely flinched at the once barely tolerable pain.

"Rusl told be you weren't putting anything on the wing, but it looks almost healed!" He looked up with an expression of pure amazement.

Ilia pointed at the water, which seemed to glow with a soft light entirely on its own. "It's Ordon Spring," she explained. "The water here has been blessed by the resident Light Spirit, Ordona. It has special properties which speeds up the healing process."

Eragon looked as if he didn't believe her answer and Ilia couldn't blame him. He had grown up in a land far away from Hyrule, a kingdom that had been created by the Goddesses themselves. If she hadn't grown up with so rich and magical a history, she might not believe in it herself.

"I don't believe in gods," Eragon replied. He looked back at the wing with confused features. "It must be...something in the water."

"A few other skeptics thought so, too," Ilia said. "But if you remove water from the spring, it loses its healing properties. Same goes for any other for the three springs."

Eragon looked her in the eye, and she jumped slightly in shock. His eyes were a brilliant and intense blue...almost like those of a wild beast, if she wanted to get sentimental about it. "There are other springs?"

"Four, if you count this one. One spring for each of the four main provinces. One provinces for each of the four Light Spirits: Ordona, Faron, Eldin, and Lanayru. The Three Goddesses charged the Spirits with watching over Hyrule and they do it through their springs."

"I see." Eragon nodded as if he had any clue what she was talking about. Ilia could see that he was clueless about Hyrule mythology. He probably didn't even know who the Goddesses were! An akward silence followed as the two ran out of things to say.

"Thank you," Ilia said at last, "for falling from the sky and giving Ordon Village something to be excited about. We're a small village off in the middle of woods. Nothing important happens here. Having a strange boy from another land crash-land into the spring and playing host for a dragon really boosted everyone's mood here."

Eragon smiled and nodded. "Happy to be of service," he answered. He turned to leave, but was stopped when Saphira gave him a meaningful nudge. "And thank you for taking care of Saphira when I was unable to," he added quickly, eyeing the she-dragon. "She means the world to me and we both appreciate what you did."

Ilia shrugged, her cheeks turning bright red. "Don't thank me. It was Ordona's Spring that really did all the work."

Eragon smiled, glancing upward as he did so. His smile turned into a frown. The sky was beginning to darken and soon night would be upon Hyrule. "I better get going," he said. "Uli wants me back by nightfall and promised to skin me alive if I wasn't. It was good to meet you, Ilia." Dipping his head, Eragon turned and vanished into the gathering shadows.

Ilia sighed, staring after the young man. Turning, she grinned ruefully at Saphira. "Can you believe me?" she asked. "Here I am, having a little crush on a man I barely even know! Oh, well, I'm pretty sure you're used to this, Saphira."

Saphira nodded_. That boy is too good-looking for his own good_, Ilia thought she heard a voice say_. You are better than the last slattern that had feelings for him. _She bared her fangs in a show of defensive jealously for Eragon. _I still desire to sink my fangs into that girl._

* * *

"Colin," Uli said to her son. "Time for bed."

The young blond-haired boy nodded, trying to cover a yawn with his hand. "Going, mom," he replied sleepily. He paused and looked pleadingly. "But, can I have a story first?"

Eragon glanced outside, shocked by the time of day. The sky was still a delicate shade of purple, not even close to night. But, then again, Colin was still a child. Eragon supposed that Garrow had used to put him to bed when he was the same age.

Rusl smiled and nodded, waiting for Colin to crawl under his covers. Once he did he sat on the bed, clearing his throat in preparation for the bed-time story. "Let me guess," he said playfully. "You want to hear about the Chosen Hero?" Colin grinned in response.

Eragon, who sat on his own cot, stirred at the last two words. Though he had never heard them before, the title sounded vaguely familiar. "Who is the Chosen Hero?" he muttered to himself.

Colin heard the question and replied, "The Chosen Hero isn't just one person. He's an entire force!"

"Yes," Rusl said in agreement. "Every time Hyrule is in danger, a hero chosen by the Three Goddesses rises up to defeat the evil."

"Three Goddesses?"

Rusl groaned. "Eragon, I keep on forgetting you do not hail from Hyrule. Everyone here has heard of the Goddesses. The Three Goddesses are the deities whom we believe created Hyrule and all that is in it. Din is the Goddess of Power who created the landscape of Hyrule. Farore is the Goddess of Courage who created all the life in Hyrule. Nayru is the Goddess of Wisdom who set place the physical laws of Hyrule."

Eragon nodded, satisfied. So the Three Goddesses were the beings that had created Hyrule and everything in it? Okay, he could work with that. "And the Chosen Hero?"

"Hyrule has long since been under the threat of Ganondorf. Every so often he appears to try and take over Hyrule. Whenever he or another evil emerges, the Chosen Hero rises up and defeats him. You see, Eragon, the Chosen Hero is a force. It will be reborn into a new body whenever it is needed. There have been numerous Heroes, including the most famous, the Hero of Time. All, or the ones we know of, have been born with the name Link."

"So the Chosen Hero is reborn as a boy named Link whenever danger comes to your land and saves it?"

"Pretty much." Turning back to Colin, Rusl began to tell his story.

Eragon tried listening in for a while, but he quickly lost interest. Instead he picked at his bandage, gazing out the window to the outside. Twilight had come and gone, and now the world was covered in darkness. Colin had fallen asleep to his father's story and now Rusl and Uli were preparing to go to bed.

The woman glanced at Eragon, putting one hand on her swollen belly. "It's getting late," Uli said, causing Eragon to look over at her. "You best go to bed and get some rest. Something tells me you'll need it tomorrow."

Eragon blinked. He was looking forward to yet another day of conversing with Saphira and wandering aimlessly around the village. "Why?"

Uli shrugged. "Woman's intuition. It's never failed me yet."

The Dragon Rider decided to take her advice. After all, it was getting late and he certainly wasn't going to spend the entire night by sitting in the dark all by himself. Eragon leaned back into the cot, closed his eyes, and allowed sleep to claim him.

That night his slumber was dreamless, undisturbed by troubling visions of the mysterious woman or by an ominous vision. It was a small favor from the Goddesses; the calm before the storm. Tomorrow that storm would break, and Eragon Shadeslayer would be thrown into a world of shadows and chaos that would change his life forever.

**Like I said, not a big chapter, but it formally introduced Ilia (who will play her little part in the story) and gave Eragon some background on some important topics. The next chapter actually has plot-movement _and _fight action. Let's see how the Bulbins handle Eragon.**

**Next chapter: Eragon is well enough to leave Ordon Village and to begin the long trip back to Alagaesia. However, before he is able to leave, he discovers that the children have run off into Faron Woods earlier that morning and haven't been back since. It's a rush against time as Eragon has to find the children without Saphira before something terrible can happen.**


	5. Missing Children

**Sorry I've been a bit late in updating. I sort of got _Ocarina of Time_ as an early Christmas present and I couldn't tear myself away from the screen long enough to finish this chapter any sooner.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the_ Inheritance Cycle _or _Twilight Princess._**

Soon after that night Saphira's wing had completely recovered from the lightning strike and she was free to go. As for Eragon, Uli insisted on him staying in Ordon Village for at least another couple of days so that his arm could properly heal. The pregnant woman was so watchful of his injured arm that Eragon could not use his magic to speed up the healing process without arousing suspicion. Finally, the day came when even Uli deemed Eragon fit enough for travel.

Eragon now waited in the clearing outside of the tree-house, taking in his surroundings for what would most likely be the final time. Saphira's saddle, cleaned and well-stocked with food and other provisions, lay beside him. The sword that Nar Garhzvog had given to him in behalf of his tribe was strapped to his belt, ready to be used in case of an emergency.

Eragon and Saphira had already said their goodbyes to the villagers, the latter doing all of her farewells silently, so as to keep up with the ruse that she was a dumb beast. Eragon waited in that clearing with all of the supplies, waiting for Saphira to return. She had gone a final hunt so that she had enough energy to keep herself in the air for as long as possible.

The Dragon Rider glanced over to Epona, who was grazing happily on a patch of grass. The roan mare was tacked up and ready to herd the goats back to the barn as soon as she wa needed. "I'm going to miss this place," he murmured aloud. "It's so beautiful here and the people are more hospitable and friendlier than they are back home. Must be because they're not in the middle of a war right now.

Epona raised her head from the grass, munching on a particularly juicy mouthful. She snorted, looking at him expectantly with big, dark eyes.

Eragon chuckled. "I'm going to miss you too, Epona. Horses where I come from aren't anything like you."

Apparently satisfied, Epona swallowed her mouthful of grass and resumed grazing. Eragon smiled and turned away from the intelligent mare and turned his gaze upward, searching for the familiar shimmer of sapphire blue scales against the slowly darkening sky.

Suddenly hearing the sounds of small bare feet behind him, Eragon turned in the direction of the path that led to Ordon Spring. Colin was running toward him, gasping for breath with every stride. Finally stopping, the boy panted heavily for several moments, struggling to regain his breath.

Eragon looked down at the gasping boy in slight surprise. He had already exchanged goodbyes with Colin and the other children. What was Colin doing here now? Sensing something was off, Eragon's look of confusion turned to one of concern. "Colin," he asked, "is everything all right?"

Still breathing heavily, the boy shook his head. Struggling to remain coherent, he replied, "No.....we were...down by spring...playing....Talo saw a monkey...chased it...we followed...I couldn't keep up...fell behind....came back home...."

Eragon took Colin by the shoulders, blue eyes sharp. "How long ago was this?" he demanded.

"A...while ago." Colin broke away from his grasp, looking up at him. "Please, Eragon.....you have to help them!" He was regaining his breath now, but his voice was panicked. "Night is coming and the Bulblins will be coming out soon."

Eragon had heard of the Bulblins and how they roamed Faron Woods. He had heard terrible things about these creatures and the even more gruesome they did to people that were unfortunate enough to happen upon them. Not to mention the other animals that lurked in the forest, animals that would be happy to have an easy meal in the form of a small child.....

"Don't worry, Colin, I'll find everyone and make sure they all make it home safe and sound. Go back to the village and tell your father. If I can't them, he will." The young boy nodded and hurried off, leaving Eragon alone in the clearing.

_Saphira! _he called.

The chances of finding the children before nightfall was slim in a big forest such as this, even for a Dragon Rider. Having a lookout in the sky, especially a lookout accustomed to hunting prey in heavily wooded areas, would be invaluable.

There was nothing but silence on Saphira's end of the link. That meant she had travelled far beyond the range for speaking telepathically, most likely trying to avoid hunting game that the nearby settlements heavily relied on.

_Saphira! _He called again, just in case she had not heard him the first time.

Again, there was only silence in reply.

Cursing, Eragon looked around for another method of finding the children. He could travel quite fast on foot, but judging by the time his quarry had been missing, he would not reach them by nightfall. His eyes fell upon a faster, easier kind of transportation. Epona, all tacked up and ready to ride, ate on, oblivious to the fact that Eragon was eyeing her.

Eragon took off at a running start and gracefully landed in the saddle, seizing the reins. Epona, startled by the sudden weight on her back, whinnied in fright and attempted to buck her rider off. Eragon, with expert skills born of riding the temperamental Snowfire, forced the mare onto all four hooves. He sent soothing thoughts to Epona, calming her down.

With the horse now under control, Eragon whirled Epona around, making her face the way to Faron Woods, and spurred her into a full gallop. She was off, thundering down the path to Ordon Spring and through the open gate and over the bridge that led into Faron Woods.

The race against the clock had begun.

* * *

The gallop through Faron Woods proved helpful. Eragon had happened upon small footprints that undoubtedly belonged to the children, along with strange tracks he guessed to be the monkey's (he had never seen one himself, so this was merely an assumption.) He had slowed Epona to a canter so that he could follow the tracks more carefully, painfully aware that the shadows of the trees around him were beginning to grow longer and darker as time wore on.

Eventually Eragon had reached a tunnel and a point where Epona refused to go any further, her fear of small, dark places too strong to be conquered. From there he had set off on foot, easily defeating a plantlike creature that had been in front of the tunnel.

Near the entrance he found a familiar wooden sword, one that Talo was quite fond of. The dirt here had been disturbed, almost as if a struggle had taken place. Had the children been captured by someone, like the Bulblins? It was the only feasible explanation; Talo would never had left his precious sword lying in the dirt willingly.

Eragon quickly advanced through the tunnel, his keen eyesight strong enough to see in the darkness without the aid of a lantern, fending off small bats and plantlike creatures that got in his way. The small creatures were not dangerous, but there were plenty of them, and getting rid of them cost him time he didn't want to waste. It was with great relief when he finally reached the other side, entering a big forested area.

The first thing he saw was a small creature he took to be a Bulblin. It was roughly about his size and looked like a goblin in appearance, with bluish skin and white hair that wore only a pair of leather pants. It wielded a crude club in its tiny hands, which it raised when it saw Eragon. With a wild battle cry, the Bulblin (if it was one) charged.

Eragon didn't hesitate: he plunged his sword deep into the Bulblin's flesh and ripped it out before it could even swing its club. The Bulblin screeched in surprise and pain, tumbling to the ground as Eragon easily avoided its crashing body. Blood pouring from its wound, the Bulblin wreathed on the ground, its spasms growing gradually weaker.

Unaffected by the creature's agonised cries, Eragon easily invaded its mind and got the necessary information. A pack of Bokoblins (for that is what these creatures were) had been sheltering in the tunnel when the children had ran by. They had captured the kids, taking them out deep into the forest for reasons that Eragon didn't want to find out. Leaving the Bokoblin's mind as it gave one final shudder than went limp, Eragon rushed deeper still into the woods.

He came upon a couple of loners that had lagged behidn the main group as he chased after the Bokoblins' tracks, easily killing them as he deftly avoided their swinging clubs.

Finally, Eragon reached the party of Bokoblins, and their young captives. Each of the missing children was held by a Bokoblin, who were arguing in their own language about what to do with their prisoners. Hearing Eragon approach, the Bokoblins stopped, those not with a child brandishing their weapons in preparation for battle. Eragon hesitated, looking over at the captive children. Not wanting to accidentally wound them in battle, he decided to try a different tactic before resorting to violence.

"Stop!" he said in a loud voice. The advancing Bokoblins halted, their beady eyes travelling from Eragon to his blade, which still shone red with the blood of the Bokoblins it had killed. They paused as well, unsure of what to make of this stranger.

Eragon and the Bokoblins stared at each other, sizing each other up. The Bokoblins knew Eragon was only one person, but his sword showed proof that he had successfully killed their companions. Eragon knew that the Bokoblins were quite easy to defeat, but they had numbers on their side, and could easily kill one or more of the children before he reached them.

Eragon pointed at the children. "I have come for them," he continued on a voice that invited no argument. "Either you will give them to me, or-" he gestured at his blood-covered blade "-you will die."

The Bokoblins lowered their clubs and glanced at each other. Most likely they couldn't understand his tongue, but they had caught the gist of what he had meant.

"They're going to let us go!" Talo called, staring at the Bokoblins. "They wouldn't dare try to fight against you, Eragon!"

Malo, held tightly in a Bokoblin's arms, peered from Eragon to the Bokoblins and back. "Don't be stupid, Talo," he said in a flat voice. "There's one of Eragon and at least ten of them. Even the Bokoblins know that they'll win."

Apparently the Bokoblins thought the same way. Some of them grinned maliciously, chuckling at Eragon's command.

The Dragon Rider didn't appear to be threatened. He continued to glare at the Bokoblins, blue eyes emotionless. "I wouldn't do that," he said in an even voice.

The Bokoblins didn't appear to have heard him. They raised their clubs, and charged with battle cries similar to the first Bokoblin. The captive children screamed, fearing their hero doomed.

Eragon easily evaded the charging mass of brutes, aiming a blow to one's head as he hurried by. With the speed of lightning he dodged their clubs and thrashing bodies, killing them with well-aimed jabs of his sword, killing or maiming most on his first try. He was as fleet as the elves, untouchable by these slow and klutzy Bokoblins.

"Wow!" Beth exclaimed in admiration. "Look at 'im go! I've never seen sword-play like this in my life."

"Go, Eragon!" Talo yelled. He strained against his Bokoblin's hold, eyes shining as he tried to get closer to watch the fight. "Give those dogs all you got!"

"Watch out!" Malo cried, catching something that Eragon, caught up in his sword-play, did not notice.

A Bokoblin that had managed to sneak up on the Rider's back unnoticed. However, instead of aiming a hit at his back or head, the creature heaved his weapon at Eragon's sword. The heavy club it the sword, knocking it out of its master's hands and sent it flying through the air where it landed with a clatter beyond Eragon's reach.

Eragon cursed, looking for a way out of the situation. He could use his magic to defeat these enemies, but doing so would reveal one of his secrets to the children. He jumped at the alternative, trying to lunge out of the crowd of Bokoblins to try and retrieve his sword. The Bokoblins, however, blocked his way, one raising its club to deal a blow that could not be blocked.

_"Jierda!" _Eragon snapped. The Bokoblin that had raised its club fell down, its neck broken. Thinking fast, he barked other spells that came to his mind.

_"Thysta!" _Several of the Bokoblins were shot backward by an invisible force and landed against several trees with sickening crunches.

_"Malthinae!" _A Bokoblin was suddenly rooted to where it stood, unable to move.

The Bokoblins tried swinging their clubs at the air, trying to fight an invisible enemy, or simply dropped their weapons and shielded themselves with their arms. But whatever they did could not protect them from this strange and mysterious force Eragon commanded. Frightened, the survivors of the magical attack dropped their holds on the children, and fled into Faron Woods.

Eragon walked over and retrieved his sword, frowning when he realized that the club had broken it in two. Sighing, he sheathed both parts of the damaged blade, hoping he could find a way to repair Nar Garzhvog's gift. Oh well, at least the children were safe. He turned to face them, afraid of what they would think of his powers.

The children, though stunned by the sudden and surprising events, were staring at him in awe instead of fear. They were silent for quite some time, gawking at him like they had when they had first laid eyes on them.

"That was amazing!" Talo suddenly shouted, sending the other children into hysterics. "How did you learn to fight with a sword like that?"

"A sword?" Beth repeated "Who cares about the sword fighting!" She looked up at Eragon in admiration. "What was that strange power you were using, Eragon?"

Eragon blinked, unused to being admired soley for his magical abilities. Most people couldn't get over the fact that he was a Dragon Rider and couldn't care less about the power that came with his position. "Magic," he answered simply.

Malo gaped. _"You_ _know magic?"_ he asked in disbelief.

Beth and Talo were suddenly all over him, asking all sorts of questions. "What kind of spells did you use? Can you teach me how to use magic? Can all the people where you come from use magic?"

Eragon raised his hands, calling for silence. "I'll tell you everything you want to know about magic," he said, "but you have to promise me you won't mention what happened here to _anyone_, okay? Not your parents. Not Ilia. Not even Colin. Can you promise me?"

The children nodded, eager to sell their souls if it meant learning anything about magic. "We promise," they chorused in unison.

Sighing, Eragon tried to contact Saphira for a ride back to Ordon Village. To his frustration, she was still out of range. So Eragon and the children, not shaken up with their encounter with the Bokoblins in the least, set off for home on foot. For some reason, whether it was the non-stop questions about magic or Beth blathering on right in his ear, the journey seemed even longer.

**Hmm, not as much action as I wanted :/. Ah well, we got the plot moving and the Twilight is coming up _real_ soon.**

**Next chapter: Dark forces fall upon Hyrule and Eragon finds himself stuck with it. Meanwhile, Arya's worry for Eragon and Saphira becomes too unbearable to handle, and, now back in Du Weldenvarden, sets off to Oromis for help in finding the missing duo.**


	6. Twilight Falls

**Someone asked about what Eragon's Twilight form would be. All I can say is I don't honestly know at this point. I'm stuck between two choices and don't know which one to choose. So you can vote, although my final decision may or may not be influenced by the poll. Should Eragon be a wolf (this choice would lead to a more traditional plot and most likely a Eragon/Zelda, Eragon/Arya, or Eragon/Midna pairing) or should he be a dragon (this choice would lead to a story more different than the canon TP story and the pairing would most likely be Eragon/Saphira.) Or, you can suggest another animal.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _the Inheritance Cycle _or _Twilight Princess. _Any original material you do not recognize from either source belongs to me.**

Saphira growled, pressing the squirming deer she held ever tighter into the ground. The creature thrashed and kicked violently, eyes rolling in its head, frantic to escape and survive another day. Saphira didn't care; she had chased the damn deer all over Hyrule and was now going to sit down and enjoy a well-deserved dinner.

She had been flying lazily over Faron Woods, looking for a quick little snack that would hold her over one the long and strenuous flight back to Alagaesia. She stumbled across this deer by accident and was quite glad she had. It was an impressive-sized buck, large and supple, and irresistible to any dragon. Saphira had dove in for the kill, expecting to catch her prey by surprise and get it before it was aware of her presence. It turned out she had underestimated the stupid creature, the buck had slipped out of her claws at literally the last moment and had fled into the woods.

Saphira had never been one to back down from a challenge, nor would her pride allow it. She had chased her prey throughout the forest, intending to drive it out into an open area where she could swoop down and claim her prize. The buck was smarter than it appeared to be, evading her talons everytime and avoiding clearings that Saphira might have easily accessed. It had been a trying pursuit, but one that Saphira had won in the end.

_Now, now, little buck, _she said to the frightened deer, _you have fled from my jaws for a very long time and have tested my patience and my endurance. But, nevertheless, I have caught you fair and square. Now stop fidgeting and stay still so that I may kill you. You have fought for your life honourably, but you could not best me. Lie still and accept your fate with dignity so that you may die a noble death._

The buck did not seem interested in dying a dignified death. It struggled wildly, bawling pitifully, and tried everything in its power to not die at all. Saphira, her patience at last exhausted, and ended the cries with a swift bite to the throat.

_Fine, _she sniffed. _If you had wanted to die the coward's death, so be it._

Saphira bent down and took the first bite of her supper. The meal had been well worth the long pursuit and tiring struggle; the meat of the buck was among the most succulent and juicy she had ever tasted. The blue she-dragon devoured the meat ravenously, famished by the hunt, soon leaving nothing behind but a meager pile of bones. Finished, Saphira pushed the remnants of her kill away and went about her daily routine of cleaning her scales.

Only later, when she was almost finished with ridding her scaly hide of filth, did Saphira recall the reason she had even went off hunting in the first place. The blue she-dragon had just started on her claws when she remembered that her Rider was patiently awaiting her return.

_Eragon!_

Saphira's head snapped up, at last becoming aware of her surroundings. The sky, once a deep sapphire-blue, was now a soft purple. The forest was now shrouded in velvety shadows, which heralded the arrival of the rapidly approaching night. Saphira, beginning to panic, casted her mind out in search of her Rider. She detected neither the presence of Eragon, nor any nearby human settlements. She only felt the minds of the daytime beings as they scurried back to their nests and hideaways, giving away to the nocturnal creatures as they woke up and began their nightly prowls.

Saphira cursed. She scrambled up onto all fours, snapping her wings out in preparation for flight.

How could she have forgotten Eragon like that? He had been anxious to return home, worried about terrible things that might have happened in his absence. Saphira had promised she would be gone only for a short while to fill her belly with a decent meat that would sustain her for a while. Swearing she would be back by midday, she had left Eragon in the clearing outside Ordon Village, where he was patiently awaiting her return. Was he still out there now, his head craned upward to the darkening sky, expecting to see her? Had he given up? Or, gods forbid, what if Eragon had assumed the worst and concluded she had gotten captured or was too injured to fly?

Saphira was just crouching down to launch herself into the twilit sky when she paused. Hadn't she always scolded Eragon for being impulsive and encouraged him to think matters over wisely before acting? Maybe, for once, she could listen to her own advice.

It was quite late now, and Saphira had been flying all day. By the time she had arrived back at Ordon Village, she would have flown all night without rest and would be too exhausted to begin the long journey back to Alagaesia. What if she slept for a while before returning to the village? If she woke up at dawn and flew fast, Saphira was confident she could be back at Eragon's side by noon at the latest and ready to depart. Food was no longer a problem. Dragons her age only had to eat every couple of weeks, and the buck had been enough to last her a good while. All she needed was a good night's rest and she'd be ready to go.

Had she been only a few months younger, Saphira would not have seen this sensible. No, she'd take off the moment she remembered her forgotten Rider, and return to him as soon as possible, regardless of the consequences. But the she-dragon had had some wisdom knocked into her by Glaedr, and, for the first time, Saphira swallowed her guilt and pledged she would begin the flight back to Ordon Village first thing in the morning.

Folding her wings neatly against her sides, Saphira curled up where she stood, uncaring of whether she was sleeping on the open. She was the biggest and most dangerous creature in these woods, not to mention the only sentient one within five leagues, and had nothing to fear. The great blue she-dragon closed her eyes, and allowed herself to entertain thoughts of Eragon as she drifted off to sleep.

Eragon was different from the others. From the moment she had first encountered him, she knew he alone was worthy to become her Dragon Rider. He was courageous, stood up for what he believed in, and cared strongly for others. It was almost as if Eragon had been born a hero, ready to prove himself the moment he was given the oppurtunity.

But, like all humans, Eragon was far from perfect. He was impulsive, often choosing to act before his common sense caught up to him, which almost aways resulted in dire consquences. He had a proud streak and a brash mouth that got him into trouble and made enemies out of potential allies (like Vanir). Finally, Eragon was the most stubborn and impatient person Saphira had ever had the misfortune of meeting. He refused to yield even in the most delicate of situations, unknowing when it was wise to cut ones losses and compromise.

But, as Saphira was proud to note, Eragon was beginning to mature. Wisdom from past experiences gave him the caution to temper his impulsiveness. Humility had been knocked into by Brom and Oromis (or beaten into him, in the case of Vanir) that curtailed his proud tongue and deflated his (somewhat) large head. Experience had also taught Eragon the virtues of patience and compromise, both essential qualities for one immersed in politics, even if was against his will.

The Eragon Saphira knew today was much different from the one that had unwisely wandered into Yazuac and had almost gotten himself killed by a group of Kull. She trusted he would no longer blindly charge into danger nor offend someone important with that mouth of his.

He had grown up, and Saphira (who was loathe to admit it to anyone, even to her own Rider) loved this new wise and mature Eragon more than the one she had hatched for, if such a thing was even possible.

* * *

Eragon, Ilia, and Colin all stood in the waters of Ordon Spring, tending to Epona.

The great roan mare had gotten heavily scratched by thorns and briers during the wild gallop through Faron Woods, and had returned to Ordon Village quite late the previous evening quite spooked by her traumatizing experience of staying out in the forest alone. While it normally would have taken hours for Ilia to calm Epona down enough to be caught, Eragon lent a helping hand and soothed the horse with his mind and took a hold of its bridle for her. Thinking that Eragon had a knack for animals and that Epona truly had forgiven him, Ilia decided not to yell at him. Instead, she had only chastised him and gave him the opportunity to help fix his careless mistake and "earn both my and Epona's full forgiveness."

Eragon jumped at the chance of redeeming himself in Ilia's eyes, wishing to leave on good terms with everyone in the village. He and Colin aided Ilia in her mission to make the mare's coat shine like a new copper coin, even putting up to her regular criticisms and bossy orders on how Epona was to be cleaned.

The other children had safely arrived back at Ordon Village late last night. Rusl had just been setting off to search for the missing kids when he had encountered Eragon escorting the exhausted youths back home. While the parents had been grateful and relieved to have their children back, they were furious that they all had wandered off into Faron Woods alone and had almost gotten themselves killed. All except Colin were grounded, confined to their houses until further notice. Eragon didn't mind; he rather enjoyed the quiet that was certainly impossible to achieve when all the children were present.

"Eragon, you missed a thorn." Ilia reached over and picked a tiny thorn out of Epona's mane. "Goddesses, Epona certainly won't forgive you if you keep missing all the thorns _you _got ensnared in her poor mane."

Eragon sighed, having difficulty to keep the bemused smile off of his face. Ilia's scolding remarks reminded him an awful lot of Brom's, and it was hard to not keep imaging the blond-haired girl with a long silver beard and a wrinkled face. He glanced up again toward the sky, hoping to see a familiar blob approaching him, but was disappointed to find the sky empty of all but a few clouds.

_Thud thud. Thud thud. _

Colin looked up from where he was brushing Epona's mane, confused. He and the others listened intently, silently.

_Thud thud. Thud thud._

Ilia's brow furrowed, blue eyes alight with confusion. "Is that...thunder?"

Eragon's eyes narrowed, his pointed ears trained solely on the sound. "No...it's getting closer."

_THUD THUD. THUD THUD._

The ground beneath them began to tremble, and the sound became so loud it rattled his bones. Epona snorted wearily, rolling eyes locked on the entrance to the spring. Eragon subconciously reached for his sword, cursing silently when he remembered that he had left the blade's mangled remains in the saddlebag.

Moments later, monstrous boars charged into Ordon Spring. They were larger than Epona, dark-colored with gleaming little red eyes. Astride the two brutes, were four riders, a pair to each bore. The strange riders were green-skinned and had two horns upon their heads, heavily reminding Eragon of small and scrawny Urgals. They surveyed the three humans coldly, one of the creatures upon each of the boars raising a strung quiver aimed at the small group.

Ilia and Colin turned to flee, while Eragon quickly summoned his magic to launch a counterattack. One of the riders loosed its arrow, the tip catching the blond-haired girl in the leg. Ilia fell with a pained cry, crashing into the water.

Enraged, Eragon mustered up all of his magical energy. He channeled all of that power onto a single focal point, the creature that had harmed Ilia, and said the first words torturous of magic that came to mind.

_"Dey-"_

Before he could complete his spell, a third boar also carrying a rider upon its bristly back, creapt up behind him. The creature struck him sharply with his club, catching him by surprise and knocking him unconscious. Staggering, Eragon remained awake for only a moment more before collapsing into the spring.

The newcomer was much larger, heavier, and squatter than his fellow companions. He was the only one astride his mount, which was bigger than the other boars and a gray-blue instead of dark brown. This creature glanced toward his inferiors, noting with satisfaction that they had loaded the now-unconscious Ilia and Colin onto their saddles and where ready to depart. Paying no attention to the youth that lay crumpled by his boar's hooves, the Bulbin King raised his horn to the clear blue sky and let loose a single, chilling note. His mission complete, the Bulbin King and his raiders thundered away with their prizes.

Several moments later, a groan issued from the figure of Eragon. The Dragon Rider blinked open his blue eyes, dazed and confused as to why he was lying in the middle of the spring. Suddenly, he went rigid, recalling the nightmaric events that had led up to this moment.

_Ilia! Colin!_

Eragon was on his feet at once, in hot pursuit of the raiders. He was to absorbed in his chase, to focused on the effort of saving the captured villagers, that he didn't notice the terrible things the creature had summoned with its horn. A red and black hole punctured the sky, like a gaping wound in its side. The brilliantly sunny day was cut to an end as a too early twilight began to spread across the world, a grim and ominous omen of what was to come.

Eragon had just rattled across the bridge when he paused, his path blocked by a peculiar obstacle.

It was a black wall that barred his way into Faron Woods. The barrier carried on in all directions, as far as he could see, and, when he craned his neck upward to inspect the height of the wall, soared as high as the twilit sky. Strange red symbols were etched into the smooth black surface, which, like the wall itself, seemed to emanate an eerie yellow-orange glow. Eragon took a wary step back, the hair on his neck rising.

Suddenly, a black hand exploded through the wall, wrapping its fingers around his torso and clutching him tightly. Eragon could only yelp in shock as the black hand plunged back into the barrier, dragging him along with it.

Eragon, now passed the wall, could only gape in horror at the horrific creature that held him captive in a death-grip. All of his training and courage drained away and he could only gape at the monster. Scaly black skin, a mask which obscured its face, and putrid breath which stank of death and decay. Eragon was limp at the petrifying sight, powerless as the demon raised him closer to his mask, ever closer to his end....

Something on his left hand suddenly let out a bright glow. The monster dropped him, shrieking in agony as it raised its arms to shield it from the light.

Eragon moved to push himself up, moving quickly so as to catch the beast by surprise.

_Thump thump. Thump thump._

The Dragon Rider froze, sensing an unpleasant feeling running through his body. Confused, he glanced at his left hand, the source of the feeling. The strange mark which had suddenly appeared upon his hand was glowing again, though this time it seemed to pulse with the pain.

_Thump thump. Thump thump._

Suddenly and viciously, the disturbing sensation morphed into an unbearable agony. Eragon screamed, unable to endure the torture for much longer. The mark began to became ever brighter and its pulsing ever more stronger, throbbing through his body like liquid fire.

_THUMP THUMP. THUMP THUMP._

At last, the pain reached his frantically beating heart. By then, Eragon could bear the agony no longer. Unconsciousness rose up to engulf him, and the temptation to sink into the sweet blackness and escape forever was too great to resist. The Dragon Rider closed his eyes, falling into a dark and bottomless abyss.

After that, he knew nothing.

**So, that's it. I purposefully left the ending ambiguous so that you may decide what creature Eragon becomes. Should he be a wolf, like in canon? (The pairing would be either ExA, ExZ, or ExM.) Or, because of his bond with Saphira, should be be a dragon? (The pairing would be ExS, of course!)**

**Oh, and yes, the Saphira part was completely filler. It does nothing more than explain Saphira's absence and (if you squint) a microscopic amount of what could be considered early one sided EragonxSaphira. What can I say? I totally love this pairing!**


End file.
